


Lynette's Worst Christmas Pageant Ever

by captainellie



Category: Lynette - SouthernASMR Sounds (Webseries)
Genre: Attempted heist, Christmas pageant, Female Friendship, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainellie/pseuds/captainellie
Summary: It's Lynette's Worst Christmas Pageant Ever. Or maybe the best. Sort of depends on what you think of a lot of things, including a history of setting things on fire.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Lynette's Worst Christmas Pageant Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/gifts).



“On a scale of accidentally burning down my shop to going to prison because you tried to steal a _cow_ , how bad is this plan of yours?” Trish asks.

Lynette harumphs and doesn’t answer.

“Those sound pretty close to the same end of that scale,” Symphony says. She tips her face back into the sunlight streaming in through the shop window.

“Accidental to intentional,” Trish adds. “Not damage done.”

“Well then.” Symphony laughs. She’s always had a loud laugh, full-throated. It invites everyone to laugh along with her. Trish snorts a little. Lynette doesn’t laugh at all, but she only just swallows it back. She can’t hide her grin. “Accidental chaos to intentional chaos to intentionally accidental chaos.”

“There’s no such thing as intentionally accidental,” Trish says.

At the same time, Lynette finally speaks up. “Are you going to spend the whole time teasing me or did you want to get your nails done?”

“Both, sweetheart.” Symphony smiles, a satisfied curl of her full mouth. It shows her perfect teeth.

“God knows you can’t shut up while you work,” Trish mutters, and it’s low enough they both ignore her.

“It’s not a bad plan at all.” Lynette runs her fingers over the nail polish bottles she’s gathered. They click together pleasantly.

“Bless your heart,” Trish says. “They’re all bad plans.”

Lynette rolls her eyes. “Ready to try stiletto nails again?” she asks Symphony.

“ _No_!” Trish’s voice is louder than Symphony’s, but Lynette doesn’t appreciate either of them.

“Just color this time,” Symphony says. “Make me pretty.”

Lynette’s smile is soft. “You’re always pretty.”

“That’s true.” Symphony preens a little, and even Trish grins at that. “Make my nails pretty, too.” Then, sly, she looks at Lynette. “Sparkly, too.”

“Good lord.” Lynette touches the bottles again, makes them click and clack. “Tell me you’ve not been talking to Charity.”

“Maybe I’ve been inspired.”

Trish snorts.

Lynette sets down the little box of nail polish and shows them to Symphony one at a time: Bijou Blue from Wet _n_ Wild (and oh, isn’t that a fun one in Lynette’s accent), Go for the Gold from Sally Hansen (which _is_ one of the prettiest golds Symphony’s ever seen), Pin Me Pink from Essie, and Rue from Zoya (a lovely enough cream color, but it’s too bland for Symphony’s style). 

They decide on Pin Me Pink with Go for the Gold at the tips and little lines of it striping her thumbs. Lynette quickly cleans her nails, buffs them smooth, though there’s not much roughness to them, Symphony has a thorough beauty regime, and settles down to paint them. 

She prattles on while she does, telling them of Brittany’s new job and Jimmy getting kicked out of the Wal-Mart again (Trish feels sorry for that poor kid back in automotive who faced Jimmy’s grumpiness over some confusion over what battery went with which vehicle), but once she’s painted the first coat on Symphony’s right hand, she turns to the other reason they’ve come together.

“Amber’s kid’s competing for Miss December Diva,” Lynette says.

 _Oh no._ Symphony and Trish exchange a look. They’re not all that close themselves, but they both love Lynette, and, more important, they both know what Lynette’s likely to get up to on her own, especially when it comes to Jimmy’s old flame.

“Lots of girls in that pageant,” Trish says. She sits up a little straighter in her chair.

“ _Amber Lynn_ is in that pageant,” Lynette says. “Going up against that Amber Junior.”

_And there it is._

Trish squints at her. “Tell me Amber didn’t _actually_ name her daughter Amber Junior.”

“Oh girl,” Lynette says and laughs, “she absolutely did.”

Lynette finishes painting the first coat on Symphony’s left hand and caps the bottle. Now, it’s a matter of waiting for it to dry. Now, it’s a matter of stopping Lynette from getting _too_ ridiculous over this mess. (There’s no hope for getting her to drop it entirely.)

“Let me guess,” Trish says, voice wry. “You want to kneecap Amber Junior.”

“ _No!_ ” Lynette cries. “Good lord, I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Worst thing I could think of,” Trish admits. “Thought we’d start there and work our way down.”

It makes Symphony laugh, and Trish flashes her a smile.

Lynette is not nearly as amused. “I’m not going to hurt her kid,” she says, all affront and wounded pride.

“Just keep her out of the pageant.” Symphony keeps smiling. 

“Not that either.” Lynette doesn’t smile back.

“Then what, woman?” Trish stands up. Paces a little. “Tell us already! We’ll all be wrinkled and grey before you get to the point.”

“Not me,” Symphony tells her, laughing. “I’m going to be young forever.”

Trish snorts, but she smiles again, too. “Should have gone for Vamp Red then.”

“If you’re quite done.” Lynette starts on Symphony’s right hand, second coat of the pink. “Amber Lynn’s all set for the pageant, but I’m worried about the talent portion. She needs to have the best one there.”

Trish and Symphony exchange another look. Symphony tips her head toward Lynette. Trish shakes her head. Symphony does it again, sharper.

“What’s she doing this time?” Trish finally asks. It’s a good question, and they’ve both got a good reason to not be the one who brings it up. Amber Lynn’s talents are … interesting. Symphony’s favourite is the one where she sewed ornaments onto a dress, but that’s not the strangest by far.

“Bananas, I think,” Lynette says, but won’t add anything to it. “What we need to do is figure out what _Amber Junior_ is doing. If we know that, then I can help Amber Lynn choose a good talent. A better one, if need be.”

Symphony has a show coming up for New Year’s Eve (Little Orphan Annie Meets the Big Bad Wolf is _inspired_ ). She’s hosting a Christmas Eve party for those friends who aren’t welcome with their families for any reason at all. She’s not nearly done with her Christmas shopping. She should absolutely tell Lynette no.

She does not. Trish doesn’t either. Instead, they listen, and they laugh, and they try to come up with a good plan.

*

They do _not_ come up with a good plan. They come up with several mediocre plans, and Lynette’s enthusiasm overwhelms them all.

*

Climbing up a tree to look into the high gym windows so they can see Amber Junior practice her talent: Trish almost breaks her leg (a twisted knee is bad enough), and Amber gives Lynette such a tongue lashing Symphony’s ears burn. (Trish needs help and thank the good lord that’s enough to stop Lynette from slapping her again.)

Sneaking into the church before services to overhear Amber talking to the other church ladies: Somehow Lynette manages to turn on the tap and get her foot stuck in a sink under a spray of hot water. Symphony nearly trips over candles and sets the curtains alight. Trish manages to hear enough from the vestibule that they know Amber Junior is singing _something_ , but that’s it.

Most of the church ladies scowl at the three of them, and Lottie Mae sure gives Lynette an earful, but later, Mrs Betty takes pity on poor, injured Trish and gives her a little more information. Amber Junior is singing a medley of Christmas songs.

(“A little on the nose,” Symphony says and sniffs her disdain. “I’d hoped for more creativity.”

“Amber named her daughter _Amber Junior_ ,” Trish counters. “What kind of creativity did you expect?”

She’s got a point, but Symphony isn’t going to admit that to her. “Men do it all the time,” she says instead, and Trish nods, because Symphony’s got a point too.)

Bugging Amber’s house to try to catch Amber Junior practicing: Symphony and Trish draw the line there, because Lynette really can’t be arrested _again_ , for goodness sake.

Finally, it’s too close to the pageant for Amber Lynn to have time to change her talent even if they figure out what Amber Junior is singing, and Lynette has to leave her alone.

(“I can’t believe Jimmy named her after Amber,” Lynette grumbles while Trish does Amber Lynn’s hair the night of the pageant.

It’s not the first time Lynette’s said that since Amber came back to town after twenty years away, and Symphony thinks it as ridiculous now as then.

“I don’t think he did,” Symphony tells her, not for the first time either. “And even if he did, her name is Amber _Lynn_. He named her after you, too.”

Lynette’s eyes go wide. Clearly, she’s not thought of _that_ before. Dear, ridiculous woman.)

Amber Junior sings a medley all right. Unfortunately, if Amber has any singing talent, it skipped the next generation. Amber Junior’s embarrassed by it, bright pink under the stage lights. Even Lynette feels for the poor girl. Amber stands to the side of the stage, mouthing the words at first and then raising her voice louder and louder as she sings along.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Amber Lynn tap dances onto the stage. She’s not very good at it, clomping more than dancing. She’s certainly distracting, at least, especially when she lights a baton on fire.

“Good lord,” Trish says and buries her face in her hands. “What is it with your family and fire?”

Amber Lynn does _not_ burn down the community center, but it’s a near thing. By the time it’s all done, Amber Lynn and Amber Junior have been disqualified and have become best friends. Lynette agrees to take them for ice cream. Trish throws up her hands but goes along for a double cone. Symphony can’t stop smiling.

Amber’s none too thrilled about it, but really, who cares what that grumpypuss thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Andian, your love of this series made me happy, and I hope I managed to give you a little of that in return.


End file.
